[CHAPTER XIV.]
Whatever the Duke himself might feel, I returned home gloomy from my share in the affair. I sincerely believed, indeed, that I had done nothing but my duty in informing him of the injury that the Count de Mesnil had striven to do him, and of the insult that had been offered to his wife. He, on his part, too, I firmly believe, imagined that he had done nothing but that which he was bound to do as a soldier and a man of honour; but still there was something in the whole affair--the solitary encounter--the grave prepared--the burial in unhallowed ground, which added to the event all those dark and awful associations that deprived us of the power of classing it with those common encounters, with which he and I were both too familiar to remember them with any great pain when they were over.
A little less than an hour had been consumed in the whole affair, at least on the part of the Duke, for I had been absent for a much longer space of time in leading away the horse of the deceased cavalier. However, as our household was not the most matutinal in the world, few of the servants were up, even when I returned; and I doubt not that no one in the whole family but myself had the slightest suspicion that the Duke had for a moment quitted his own dwelling. Thinking it right to make a report of what I had done after I had left him, I now went at once to the library, where I found him, in his robe de chambre, seated at a table, on which neither books nor papers were opened before him, but there lay the fatal locket which he had taken from the person of the Count de Mesnil, and his eyes were fixed steadfastly upon the lock of dark hair that it contained. He instantly took it up when I entered, and of course I ventured to make no observation, though I saw from his haggard look and frowning brow that he was once more adding the torments of suspicion to the pangs which the fatal business of that morning had left behind. He listened attentively to all I had to say, and though he gave a slight shudder when I mentioned the wild way in which the horse had dashed off towards Mesnel Moray, he made no farther comment, but waived me to leave him, saying he would speak with me more another time.
No injunction to secrecy had been laid upon me, but the Duke seemed to consider it perfectly unnecessary to enjoin me not to reveal the transactions of which I had been a witness, and in some of which I had borne a part. As may be well conceived, I never dreamt of such a thing as babbling, and the matter lay buried as deep and as securely in my heart as it did in his own. Nobody noticed that I had been out earlier than usual, and consequently I was subjected to no questions; and the only single observation referring to the business which I ever heard in the family, was when the head groom asked the Duke's permission to take his favourite horse to the farrier at Rennes, arguing that the animal was ill, from having found him that morning as heated as if he had come from a gallop.
The household of the Prés Vallée were, indeed, amongst the last to hear the rumours and inquiries which soon began to spread concerning the Count de Mesnil. That some accident had happened to him became evident to his servants and retainers within a short time after his death had taken place; for although no one had remarked, with any particular attention, the fact of his having gone out at such an early hour unaccompanied, supposing him to be engaged in some love intrigue which did not court witnesses, yet when, in about two hours after, his horse, masterless and foaming, darted into the court-yard of the castle, it could no longer be doubted that the adventure of the morning had terminated ill for the Count. On examining the trappings and accoutrements of the horse, it was discovered that not only the girths but the saddle itself was drenched with water, and of course conjecture was led upon a new and a false train concerning the event that had occurred. Some, indeed, contended, that the Count had been killed by robbers or assassins; but the greater part of his followers believed that, in attempting to swim the river, he had been washed out of the saddle and drowned. Information, however, was sent immediately to Rennes; all his relations had notice of what had taken place, and immediate search and investigation were instituted to discover his body, and to ascertain the circumstances of his fate. A new light, however, was thrown upon the business when the papers of the unfortunate young nobleman were opened by the proper person. It was then found, by two documents which he had written on the night previous to the morning of his death, that he had anticipated such an event, and had made every disposition of his property accordingly. He referred not, however, in the slightest degree, to the sort of danger which he apprehended; the cartel of Monsieur de Villardin, which had probably been couched in terms of bitter reproach, had been destroyed likewise; and, consequently, imagination had as wide a range as ever. Still some declared that he had purposely drowned himself, and certainly the state in which his horse had returned justified the searches which were made for his body in the river; but others more wildly contended--as he had taken a road which might, perhaps, have led him to the forest--that he had been murdered by the robbers who had so lately attacked and slain one of the royal couriers, with the three soldiers by whom he had been attended. New perquisitions were made in the forest. The whole country round about was searched without effect. Rumours, astonishment, exaggeration, and a thousand falsehoods and absurdities filled up the next six weeks, and then the whole gradually faded away, till the nine days' wonder was at an end, and the death of the young Count de Mesnil became a story to frighten children.
During the six weeks, however, that the fruitless investigations continued, gloom and darkness reigned over our dwelling. Deep and painful were evidently the feelings of the Duke de Villardin in regard to this event; and a thousand times, I am sure, did he regret that he had not pursued the usual mode of arranging such encounters, which would, at least, have spared him every accessary circumstance that now tormented him from day to day. As a friend of the dead nobleman, he was frequently consulted upon his affairs, and even in regard to the search for his body; and every one thought that they were speaking upon a subject which must interest him, when they detailed to his ears any of the numerous absurdities that were current in the country concerning the death of the Count. All this was very terrible; but, besides all this, there were feelings in the heart of Monsieur de Villardin which aggravated the regrets consequent upon the deed which he had committed. He had known the young Count de Mesnil as a boy. He had known and loved his parents. He had seen him grow up their hope and joy. He had himself anticipated great things from his early promise, and yet his had been the hand thus early to lay him low in a bloody and an unknown grave.
Though sometimes he spoke to me upon the subject when we were perfectly alone, it was more from various little points in his conduct than from his own words that I discovered these feelings. So far from ever going near the spot where the death of the Count de Mesnil had taken place, he never even, when he could avoid it, rode in that direction, as if the very wind which blew from the grave wafted fresh reproaches to his heart. Even in riding to Rennes, the road to which city passed within half a mile of the spot, if he could possibly devise any excuse for so doing, he would take the most circuitous path, to avoid even coming in its neighbourhood.
Nevertheless, whenever he spoke with me upon the subject, he justified all that he had done, and declared, that were it to do over again, he would act exactly in the same manner. I saw, too, that unhappily, there was another feeling in his bosom, which, while it rendered him more miserable than it is possible to describe, confirmed him in this impression--I mean the suspicions which had been freshly excited in regard to his wife, which, as the effect produced upon his mind by my report of her conversation with Monsieur de Mesnil died away, seemed to become stronger and stronger every hour. It was long, indeed, before he again spoke to me on the subject; but twice I saw him with the locket in his hand, and at other times his eye would rest on the dark tresses of Madame de Villardin, while I could see plainly that he was torturing his own heart by comparing them in shade and colour with the ringlet which that locket contained. A doubt also more dreadful still, seemed to have taken possession of his mind; at least I argued so from the following circumstance.
From the various painful feelings connected with the Prés Vallée, he had determined to change his residence for a time to the château of Dumont; and he told me that he should despatch me thither before the rest of the family. The day previous to my departure he sent for me to speak with him in the saloon, in regard to various matters which were to be done before his arrival at Dumont. The Duchess and his little girl were both present; and, after he had concluded his directions, Madame de Villardin told me that if I would wait a few minutes she would bring me a billet for her old nurse, who inhabited the castle to which I was going. I was standing near a window behind the Duke, and when his wife rose, and proceeded towards her own room to write the note she had promised,--displaying, as she did so, that alteration in her figure which denoted her situation,--I saw the eye of her husband fix upon her with an intensity that seemed scarcely sane. Happily she did not perceive it, but walked slowly out of the room; and, as soon as she was gone, Monsieur de Villardin, who seemed to have forgot that there was any one else present, caught his little girl in his arms, and kissed her repeatedly, murmuring,--"Thou at least art mine own."
He started when he remembered that I was there, and a quick flush came over his cheek; but the expression of deep grief, which, I feel sure, must have been upon my countenance, appeared instantly to calm him, and, laying his hand affectionately upon my shoulder, he said,--"Thou art a good youth. When thou hast got this note, go into the park and wait me there; I wish to speak with thee for some time."